Raistlin's Thoughts
by Raablyn
Summary: Was reading Legends again and got to thinking, what was Raist thinking at the end? This is the result. Hope you like. R&R, please.


_I own nothing, 'K?_

_Was reading the Legends (again) and I was thinking, what was Raistlin thinking at the very end? This is probably not exactly it, but pretty close. Read. There are some quotes from the book, but I twisted them a little._

I'm standing here, alone. Before the Portal.

There goes Caramon, with Crysania, to Tanis. Dalamar has fainted. Kitiara is lying in the darkness, in both body and soul. Lord Soth has taken her. I am alone.

I was always alone, Caramon. You never realized that, not truly.

Did you know what I feel, Caramon? Do you know, when, upon the day Crysania offered herself to me and I turned her down, when you stood before me, sword in hand, telling me that you'd kill me, I knew you meant it. I saw the hatred and jealousy on your face and in your soul, Caramon.

How does it feel, to be so overwhelmed with hatred and bitter jealousy, my brother? You would have killed me, then, as I killed the illusion of you within the cruel Test. There is no difference, Caramon. None.

Deep within my soul, I felt triumph and a revengeful pleasure–now you tasted the bitter taste of jealousy, Caramon! Now you know how it feels!–but, underneath that, mixed with it, the tearful taste of sorrow, of anguish. I had never before seen your kind face twisted in hate, embittered with jealousy. To have you fell the feelings that I had endured all these years–these cruel years–was painful, an agony.

And yet I felt, in a way, I had my revenge.

You, Caramon, you were always strong and good. Everyone liked you.

Not me. Not the 'Sly One'.

Caramon, you had never been tortured, teased, tormented. You never felt the burning chill of fever, the painful feel of illness. You were free: free to run for as long as you wanted, run away.

I could never run away. Not with this body.

And you had a strong body, Caramon! How I envied you! And you wasted it–wasted on ale and fat! How furious I was, Caramon, when I saw you, your healthy body gone to waste.

But me! My body! No matter how I took care of it, it was always aching with pains, with ailments. And you, you with your health and good looks and life–your strong, carefree life!–you wasted it when I would have taken care!

But that does not matter now, does it, my brother?

Caramon, you are wise, but your wisdom is empty. You were blind, my brother. Blind to me, to my evil.

But as I told you, in Zhaman, even sometimes, in the dark, even I turn away from myself.

But I knew what I did, Caramon. I had a purpose for every action, no matter how loathful. I sacrificed what was left of the goodness in me for power.

Caramon, you never had a need for power of others. What you wanted, you were usually handed on a silver plate. You took so much for granted, Caramon! So much!

And me! What I wanted, I worked, sacrificed, for! And you-do you know why I killed you in the Tower, Caramon? You had everything-everything. Good looks, good health--you were liked, admired, sought after! Not like me, my brother. Oh, no, not like me.

And, to me, I saw you use the magic. The magic, Caramon. That's all I ever had, and will ever have. And you took it, Caramon. You removed the very thing that made my pitiful life worth living! And after all I had done, all I had sacrificed-you did none of it! And you still had the magic, and you took it for granted!

How I hated you that day, my brother. How I hated you.

I have worked almost my whole life to become a god, Caramon. Ever since I tasted the bitter taste of mortality in those terrible weeks following our parent's deaths, I have worked. The power I would gain! Oh, the power!

But does that matter, now, my brother?

You have tasted bitter anger and hate, and, for the first time in your life, a pain only suffering can bring. How, oh, how does it feel, brother, to taste mortality, to taste weakness?  

And now comes Tahkisis . . .

She approaches. I stand strong, proud, facing away from her, stopping her from entering the portal. She, realizing my intent, shrieks-a sound that can be heard in the very deapths of the soul for milleniums to come. I can feel her fury, her hatred. A sharp talon digs into my arm, another pierces my leg, still another tears my chest. I fall to my knees, crying out in spite of myself.

Caramon hears. Turning, he stares at me with love, love, even after all that I have done, he still loves me. His face twists in agony as I feel my warm mortal blood run freely down my pitiful body. He runs toward me, still attempting to save my poor life, even after all I have done.

The idiot.

Teeth, claw, jagged spike, they all pierce my skin. Fire scorches my lungs, acid burns my throat, gas chokes my breath. Icy sleet freezed my hands, and through it all I live . . .

He still stares at me in agony, helpless. He runs to me, thinking, _Raist needs me!_

"Shut it!" I scream, even as I fall to my knees, never taking my eyes from his face.

He steps toward me! Idiot! Numbskull! Brainless fool!

"Shut it, you fool!" My fists clench as the words scream from my soul to my lips, the words I've longed to scream all my life, but with new meaning. "Leave me alone! I don't need you anymore! I don't need you!"

The Portal slammed shut, it's clang reviverating in the very depths of my soul. I scream, out loud, forever . . .

_A strong arm encircled me, holding me close. A hand raised, gleaming with silver light, form childish pictures in the night, and a voice, dimly heard, whispered, "Look, Raist, bunnies . . . "_

_I smiled, no longer afraid. Caramon was here._

And I was sinking, sinking in sleep, darkness . . . eternal rest . . .

How could I ever had been afraid, with Caramon here?

And then nothing.

_What do you think? Bad, good, what? Should I do more?_

_What do you think?_


End file.
